Invasion
by Castello
Summary: Yamimash thinks that being in an open relationship with Mark will be great... until it isn't. Established Markimash/Yamiplier. Now Rated M. (Because Mark instigates some possessive sex) ;) Summary isn't great, but I promise the writing is better.
1. Chapter 1

"Knock it off!" Aaron ordered half-heartedly from his position on the couch, controller in hand, "We're recording."

Mark grinned deviously, continuing to push his nose against yami's neck and occasionally nuzzle against his ear, "What? Can't handle the Markimash?"

"You're a bloody cock." he retorted, pushing Mark's face away with one hand, eyes still helplessly trying to stay concentrated on the game.

Livestream, the fourth hour, some casual Smash Bros and a few shots of alcohol in Mark's system. It was pretty normal, apart from the fact it was their third week in an open relationship. Telling YouTube was a little strange to do, but there was good support with the fans, a few haters (but there always are), and some stalker-like fangirls who wanted all of the nitty gritty details about it.

It turned out that living together made life a little easier. Co-ops were easier to set up, and they read fanfiction for a charity stream that got twice as much donation money after Mark planted one on Yami mid-narration.

Today was a regular Friday night, a surprise stream with mostly random Q and A moments with a game no one really is that interested in being played in the background. Mark had decided to ramp up the game a bit when Yami finally managed to pull ahead, using their relationship as a bit of cruel leverage. It surprised Aaron just how quickly the number of viewers had jumped up once it started, at first with a few innocent bumps and nudges, slowly becoming a little more sensual as the game went on. Slowly... it was going very slowly.

"Head in the game! Not in your pants Mark!"

"Well what if I wanted it to be in _your_ pants?" Mark chuckled, not removing himself from Aaron's neck while trying to keep eyes on the screen.

Yami groaned, "You're an absolute pervert."

The chat was going crazy.

 **Bluebird** : Oh mah god I ship it!

 **T1nyTRex** : Are they going 2 make out?

 **SuperWhoMerLock16** : Oh my god please do.

 **Girlsbetrippin** : If they kiss I will lose my shit

And so it went on, the more they played, the more people were demanding something completely unrelated to it to go down. Mark wasn't even bothering to _try_ and control his laughter. He played along with it, felt Aaron up a little more, answered a few questions about their love life, all the time Yami tried to keep his attention solely focused on using his game character to beat the shit out of Mark's. By the end of a few rounds, Yami was seated in Mark's lap with those large arms wrapped around his torso, Mark's controller acting as the link of the chain of limbs surrounding Aaron. Not that he wasn't comfortable, but... it felt like a little too much fan service. If that made sense... Intimate things should be a little more private. Not for the sake of an extra hundred drooling fangirls.

 **T1nyTRex** : Is Yami mad?

 **Holli3354** : Mark! You have to kiss him to make him feel better!

 **Yamimash69** : Yami? You alright?

 **BlueBird** : I don't think Yami wants to kiss...

 **BlueBird** : Sad day...

"You alright Yami?" Mark questioned, quoting the chat, attention slowly being drawn away from the game, and flipping to Aaron.

"Dandy. I just want to play the game." he replied, a frown on his face.

Mark smirked, nudging Yami's cheek with his own, "You don't want to upset the fans, do you?"

There it was again. The fans. Sure, it was the reason they did what they did. Their careers revolved around the people that watched them do stupid things, but what about just being a couple. He grunted and pulled his face away. "Maybe I do."

The chat started to dwindle a little. The comments slowly getting a little glum. Mark frowned, "What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?" Yami repeated, insulted, "You're the one selling your soul to the crowds!"

And then the chat went to hell. Some people got a little pissy, others concerned, some screaming in all capital letters about the end of markimash. Mark watched it diligently as the mood quickly went sour, passing Yami a few disappointed glances, "That was a little uncalled for, don't you think? You're upsetting everybody."

Aaron had reached the last straw with that. He paused the game, tossed the controller in front of him, and started to stand, pushing at Mark's arms as the held fast. "Let me up." He ordered, trying to unclamp Mark's hands from the controller.

The youtuber held the smaller man in place, discarding his controller, but keeping him grounded where he sat, "Aaron, what's the matter?"

"I'm done livestreaming." he replied, casually, "Let me get up."

"We're supposed to stream for another hour Yami..."

"Damn it Mark! Let me go!"

"No." Mark retorted, holding tighter, trying to keep the man in his arms from squirming around too much, "Calm down."

"I don't want to."

Now, this wasn't his ideal way to talk about it, but the issue had been plaguing Yami for a while. When they were together in secret, it was just he two of them. Their relationship wasn't anyone else's business. They'd been long distance, so not many people expected, save for the shippers, and talked regularly. They'd taken trips together and stayed over a few times. That was cherished time, just for the two of them. Aaron had thought it would be a great idea to move in together; go public. They'd be closer more often. However, he'd been drowned out by the fans.

It had been a reoccurring theme in hate comments, suggesting that Mark was becoming too full of himself, that he was too focused on his own fame. Of course, Yami didn't believe such nonsense. The guy was genuine, and kind. He was so appreciative of the support he'd been given. But... lately, it felt like he was exploiting their relationship. Like it was all _just_ to fuel the audience.

Maybe he was stupid to feel like that, but... everything they did was on camera now. There weren't any private moments for the two of them to share like they used to. There was no cherished time. It was _everyone's_ time. They were in a relationship with the fans. He felt a little used. Kisses were always photographed, dates were filmed, even stupid little home-like moments were put on social media. He couldn't even watch a romantic movie without Mark insisting they record it somehow.

It wasn't a stupid feeling at all.

"Aaron?" Mark asked, eyes filled with genuine concern when the man had finally stopped fighting his grip and had grown quiet.

"I'll be fine..." he muttered, turning a little in his seat and slinging his outer arm up to rest a hand on Mark's stubbled-cheek. He wanted to look in his eyes for this. He needed to hold Mark's full attention. "Mark..." he mumbled, "I think we should break up."


	2. Chapter 2

The people watching the stream broke out into an uproar of panic.

 **T1nyTRex:** Are they joking?

 **SuperWhoMerLock16:** No! Markimash can't be ending!

 **Holli3354:** Your breaking up with him live? Thats a dick move Yamimash

 **BlueBird:** Please don't break up! You two are so adorable!

 **BlueBird:** Why Yami? Why?

Mark blinked silently a few times, simply staring at the man in his arms with complete bewilderment. "...What?" he finally asked with a cough.

"I think we should break up." Yami repeated, lowering his eyes to the floor and dropping his hand from Mark's cheek, "It's just... not working out like I thought it would. It's not the same as it was."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Mark snapped, catching the man's attention once again.

He looked mad. Not necessarily rage-quit or Vanish mad, but the twitch of his brow made Aaron stare as he broke into a scowl. His eyes shifted with betrayal and confusion while his hand caught Yami's falling wrist, grasping onto it tightly. He didn't remember the last time he'd seen Mark this upset, if ever, and the grip on his wrist suddenly became too tight. Yami winced, "M-Mark, you're hurting me. Let go of my hand."

The constant ping of comments flooding in distracted Yami. The sudden realization hit him. He'd broken up with Mark on camera, he _really_ hadn't been thinking clearly. There surely could have been a better time... He had to try and fix the situation before the comments got too out of hand. It would make Mark look horrible for all of his fans. He opened his mouth to speak but was stopped when he felt Mark moving. He was glaring at the camera with one of the scariest looks Aaron had ever seen him wear. The man addressed the audience with a few, shot, dark words, "This livestream is over."

The screen went black as mark shut it all down, not even bothering to actually close anything, just slamming this thumb over the power button. "Mark..." Yami started, surprised when Mark stopped him from speaking yet again.

Those same strong arms that had been holding him so gently just moments before were now pushing him forcefully down onto his back.

With a looming gaze, Mark hovered over him, hands forced to the floor on either side of Yami's face, "Why?"

"W-why?"

" _Why_ do you want to break up?" Mark demanded, "We only _just_ moved in together! I thought things were going great!"

"They were..." Yami tried, reaching up to firmly place his palm against Mark's chest, "It's complicated."

Mark slapped his hand away, "You can't tell me you want to break up in the middle of a damn livestream and then say, 'it's complicated'."

Aaron tried to push at Mark lightly, a sign that he didn't want to have this conversation the way they were. Mark had him caged between his limbs. A knee planted between his legs, arms blocking either side of his head, and not bothering to budge even as Yami's pushes became a little harder. "Mark, can we talk about this on the couch? Or in the kitchen or something?"

"What's wrong with right here?" Mark snapped, his position never wavering.

Yami frowned, "I feel like you're attacking me with your eyes..." he admitted, finally growing too uncomfortable under Mark's stern stare to stay quiet about it.

The man huffed and shook his head, "I'm not moving until you tell me what's wrong."

"...We're too open." Yami finally stated, opening his hands up and glaring hard at Mark, "Everything we do isn't for _us_ anymore. It's just for the fans."

Aaron watched as Mark's features formed with confusion. He gave out a heavy sigh and shook his head, continuing, "It's like you're just trying to play the angle." he admitted, "Just like how it used to be. When we joked around. When there was nothing between us but all that _shipping_ nonsense!" he hit Mark's shoulder, "I liked it better when it was our own damn business!"

The room was bitterly quiet for a moment, as Mark drank in all the words Yami was screaming at him. Aaron shuddered, trying to calm down. It shouldn't have been that big of an issue. It was their job to be public after all, but he missed the intimacy of having their own, private romance. When the kisses were simply for the pleasure of being so close to one another, and the caring words because they were truly meant. He loved it when it was something Mark did just for him, not for a few more likes towards the video. It was dramatic, sure, but if he wasn't happy, what was the point of not speaking up?

"I..." Mark started, swiping his tongue over his lip and blinking a few times, rapidly, "You know that a big part of this job is being open right? You have to sort of reveal-"

"There are _plenty_ of youtubers who don't even show their _faces_. Some don't share names, and God knows we've shared enough!" he retorted, "I miss when it was just _us_ Mark."

The man nodded silently, letting his arms slip down to the floor one at a time, now supporting himself over Yami with his elbows. He let his forehead bump against the other man's his eyes falling closed, "I don't want to break up."

"I know..." Aaron sighed, reaching his hands up to their faces, and holding Mark's cheeks in his palms, "I don't want to either."

"Then let's no-"

"But I don't want to be unhappy either."

Mark's frown was evident as he lowered his head further, slipping out of Aaron's hold as he buried his face in the man's shoulder. Yami's arms came up to wrap around Mark's neck gingerly, pulling him closer. It felt like a last kiss. The slow, silent connection of lips, with deliberate movement and careful actions. It wasn't like the kisses they usually shared. Mark tried to wrap his arms around Yami, but when he did, the Brit parted the kiss. He became very conscious of his movements, like the slightest slip up would make the fragile moment shatter.

Like a it was a china doll.

Aaron held fast, but was obviously cautious as he kissed Mark.

It was all wrong. Like they shouldn't be doing it at all, but at the same time, it felt like the only thing _to_ do. So they just laid there for a moment, Mark's arms barely touching Yami as their lips hovered over one another, eager to press forward but too uncertain to take that final step. It was all just wrong.

"I don't want to break up." Mark repeated.

"Mark..."

"We're _not_ breaking up." he, this time, _stated_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Warning! This _could_ be considered DUB-con, so, yeah, I can't get yelled at now. You were warned. **

**This is also where the M rating really kicks in.**

 **(If Yami or Mark ever find this, just know that I apologize.)**

 **...Sorta...**

* * *

Yami found himself hurled onto the bed. Mark was strong, _surprisingly_ so. Though, with the body he kept, it shouldn't have been all that shocking. Tight shirts, loose pants, anything worked in his favor with muscles like those rippling beneath the fabric. With little to no effort he had hauled Aaron up and flung him right onto the mattress with a pronounced "Oof!"

As the initial shock faded, Yami cursed up at him, "Jesus Mark-!"

Mark hovered over him now, his gaze preditorial and angry. He was tense and _dominating._ As Yami put his hands up in defense, Mark simply pushed them down into the mattress, pinning them on either sides of his head. "M... Mark what are you doing?"

His face was stern, so torn and upset that Yami just wanted to hug him, tell him it would be okay. With these thoughts he bit his lip, reminding himself not to act like that. He and mark were supposed to be breaking up. He was the whole reason Mark was so upset. He started to speak again, interrupted when the YouTuber above him growled.

"We're not breaking up!" He repeated once more, shouting louder than Yami had expected him to before suddenly dipping down and biting along Aaron's jaw. Little nips here and there, hard sucks, possessive markings, no part of his neck was left alone. It felt so good, so intense, and it took everything inside of him not to bow down to Mark's touches and just give in.

A small whine barely squeezed through his pursed lips as Mark became more desperate, sliding both of Yami's wrists into a single palm. He scraped against everything, groping, scratching, whatever he could just to get Yami to react. "We're not..." Mark mumbled yet again in between some very determined nibbles on his chest.

Aaron couldn't stifle the dry sob that was drawn from his lungs as Mark cut right to the chase, slipping between his thighs and grinding down _hard_. There was nothing gentle about it. It was desperate, as teeth seemed to become sharper and clutches became hard enough to bruise. He'd decided to dress casually for the recording today. Which, Yami wanted to say he regretted as he felt nails _claw_ into the fabric of his pajama bottoms. They were custom made for Mark's fans, and he'd had no reservations about buying a pair. Or two. Because it was cutsey as hell to wear matching pink-moustache pajamas sometimes. He was stripped of his pants, overly exposed from the waist down. Mark hadn't even been able to hold onto enough patience to get his shirt off first, it was simply left bunched up just under the neck.

Mark sat up on his knees, and his grip on Aaron released as he flipped his own branded shirt up over his head. He glanced down warningly at Yami as he started to unbuckle his belt, daring him to move an inch from where Mark had him. Yami would try not to admit to how sexy he found that. He should really protest, he should really tell mark to stop now before they went much farther. Cautiously, he pushed himself up on his elbows and started to speak, only to be roughly slammed back down again. His body melted in with the mattress. An involuntary groan slipped out as Mark's alpha glare found his eyes.

"Lie still." Mark ordered, eyes narrowed as he held a palm flat over Aaron's chest, splayed out to keep him there as the second hand pulled his zipper down.

Yami complied, lying still as Mark shoved a hand into the material of his own jeans, palming himself awake without ever breaking eye contact. He looked feral, like he needed to _claim_ Yami, keep him in his place, and it wasn't going to be sweet. A small noise swept past his lips at the thought; Mark holding him down, fucking him into the mattress. But it wouldn't be as bad as all that, because Mark would still be kind, courteous of his partner's wishes, holding him down with a crushing, yet extremely loving embrace, soothing any pain with sweet trails of kisses and encouraging whispers.

The fantasy began to mold back into the current moment as the hand on his chest started to drift. Down, down, slowly at first, swiping over the last few inches with haste as Mark leaned forward. He was hard enough as is, and a blowjob wasn't really necessar- " _Jesus_ , Mark!" he squealed, jumping back a bit as he felt a wet intruder prod at him. It wasn't that they hadn't had sex before, -In fact, Aaron _loved_ sex (especially with Mark)- but it was very unexpected to be getting rimmed.

That protruding tongue pushed further in, forcing him to relax and welcome in whatever Mark wanted to give him. Whatever Mark felt on a whim, he was required to accept. He whined, pleaded, and wasn't afraid to openly beg when Mark slipped a finger into the mix, working in a tag team between the two. The different textures, lengths, movements, one against the other, never leaving Yami's insides empty for a moment. A low, guttural groan came from Mark when Yami let out a silent scream, catching on his breath as he was greeted with an unanticipated brush to the prostate.

He wanted more.

More friction, more movement, more _Mark_.

As if Mark could hear him thinking, another finger was added to the mix.

From the second hand.

Jesus it was humiliating to hear himself make such incoherent words, nearly crying as the stimulation of three different movements plunged into him. It was too much, and not enough at the same time. The left hand finger would shift forward, and the right would pull back while the tongue just pushed into any crevice it could, filling any empty space. The different things to focus on, left his mind occupied with nothing but the three different movements inside him. He thought he was going to collapse when Mark pulled back, a satisfied smirk on his face as he wiped his mouth on his arm. Then, keeping eye contact with Yami, gave his fingers a little, teasing, lick.

That _really_ shouldn't be as sexy as it was, but all Aaron could manage to do was whine.

He started to struggle then, because he really should. They were supposed to be breaking up, not having mind blowing possessive sex. That wasn't what a broken up couple did. He tried to sit up again, but Mark's sexy bedroom eyes quickly shifted into a deadly glare. He wasn't supposed to move. With a submissive little sound in the back of his throat, he let himself fall back again. If the pleased grin on Mark's face was anything to go by, he'd made the right choice.

Their lips met once more in a desperate clash. Yami dragged his hands up over Marks' neck, pulling him closer as he took position between his legs, snaking a hand along Aaron's upper leg. "Mark..." he groaned, slipping his fingers into the messy, mass of black hair.

It was soft, bold and taunt. Every little hair tangled around Yami's fingers, catching him and forcing him to stay there, like Mark was commanding it. He felt Mark sigh into his neck, probably coming down from whatever sexual despair had caused him to fly into such an act. "Mark..." Yami tried, seeking an opportunity to speak reason, "We- we should..."

"Shhh..." Mark offered, laying a gentle kiss over a rather rough bite he'd left just moments before.

Yami felt the reaction spiral down his body, leaving goose bumps in it's wake. The pleasing sigh traveled through him, a warmth curling into his toes as his cheeks turned pink. This was the Mark he knew, the kind, loving one that liked to be gentle, who apologized when he became possessive and rough. He let a little noise slip as Mark pushed forward, burying himself in Yami, and gently chomping down on the man's earlobe. Yami tried to quiet himself, stuffing the bunches of his shirt into his mouth, but Mark noticed, raising his head and pulling his hips back in a single movement. He tore the fabric from Yami's mouth, and gave a hard thrust, reveling in the surprised gaspy~ sort of moan that Yami produced.

"M-Mark..." He huffed, clinging tightly to his shoulders and scraping his nails down the man's back as Mark gave another quick snap of the hips.

He let the pause in between each thrust saturate, staring at Yami's face in every during and afterthought. He had time to reflect on each motion, to feel everything. Thrust after thrust, slowly becoming faster, more desperate, less strategic, as Mark lost his control, his desires becoming the main drive that kept him moving. Faster and faster until their rhythm was a drunken mess. It was sloppy, uncalculated, but _amazing_. The movements becoming altogether unpredictable, and allowing Mark to send a surprising jolt through Aaron every time he managed to push into his prostate. But when he got bored of that, and finally decided to indulge a certain angle, Yami arched his back, clawing wildly at Mark's sides as he pushed into that spot, and _stayed_.

He didn't move, pressing as far in as he could and keeping pressure against it, watching Yami writhe and whine, begging Mark to move, withdraw, do something, _anything_. He tried to squirm away, but Mark simply responded by letting him. When he got a little too far away, Mark would just follow, slamming back into that spot with a hard snap of his hips, and repeating stillness.

"Mark stop it!" Yami begged, "Move, _please_!" he wept, trying to roll his hips around, hunting around for the tiniest bit of friction and happily finding he could get it by sort of shifting movement from side to side. Mark remained still, watching silently. The only real changes were coming from what Yami did, sliding the point of pressure back and forth, like the tip of Mark's dick was scratching his prostate.

It was amazing.

Mark seemed to catch on, rolling back into a rhythm with the Brit and picking up a cruel pace without regret. Yami felt it then, the familiar pooling in the pit of his stomach. The heat, the need to burst and the need to do it _right now_ shot through him. "Mark! I- I..."

A little bite under his jaw was the only confirmation Aaron got before he felt himself release, his orgasm shooting up as his back arched. Streaming out over the both of them with loud, lewd whines. He clawed for some sort of grip, anything to keep him steady. His display evidently spurred Mark on, as the pressure against his prostate suddenly became extreme, heat flowing at it in spurts with concentrated force.

He might have actually cried at that point, but you'd never get him to admit to it. His hips hurt. The suspiciously palm-sized red patches of his hips _stung_ , and all of the bites that had a muted pain to them suddenly snapped back with a fierce pinch as Mark let himself relax against Yami.

For a while, they just stayed like that, pretzeled together, a little sore and a little sticky, catching their breath. Neither moved until Mark finally decided to pull himself up. He didn't even attempt to remove himself from Yami though, just grinned lazily.

Yami tried to stare at him firmly, he really did. He tried to let Mark know that this was _not_ a fix all solution, but he doubted the glazed over look in his eyes was all that threatening. If anything, he probably looked pretty fucked out. He grumbled at the thought, catching his boyfriend's-... He wasn't supposed to be referring to him as his boyfriend. Even in his head. "Mark..." he mumbled, "That..."

"Was amazing sex." Mark finished for him.

"Was a dick move."

Mark pouted, frowning at the man in his arms.

"Y-you can't just toss me into a bed and... and expect that to fix all our problems!" Yami pressed, trying to sound assertive even as he was still chasing down his breath. "I- that's not- You can't just-"

"I love you, Aaron."

Yami stilled. His attempts to catch his breath seemed pretty stupid right about now, as he just held it. Waiting for a continuation, something else, a _but_ somewhere in there. The sudden declaration of love had startled him.

Mark's face was _so_ straight, so dead serious it made his chest hurt. He sort of knew it, sure. It hadn't been something they necessarily talked about a lot, but the feeling was there, definitely. It was also _tragically_ mutual.

Yami wanted to scream at him, punch him in the arm or something. He was upset. It wasn't right to let Mark think he could just use the L word and everything would be alright. "Y-you can't just-!"

"I love you so much." he repeated, tightening his grip around Aaron's body, "I don't wanna to break up. Not now. Not ever."

Yami stayed still, staring up at the misshapen patterns in the ceiling as Mark's weight kept him glued to the bed. All he really needed to do was say yes. He could be happy if he just gave in. He sighed and tapped Marks head with his middle figure, possibly sending a subliminal message about how he was making Aaron feel. A _Fuck you for being so amazing_ kind of thing. At least at that particular moment.

"Super hot sex won't help you out of these situations every time you know." he stated.

Mark lifted his eyes, watching Yami with intent as he continued, "I want a date night." he demanded, "Once a week. No cameras or anything. A nice dinner, a movie, a night in, I don't really care." he looked back into the seriously tuned in gaze directed at him, "But it's _our_ night, just the two of us."

He saw the shift of Mark's face as he started to gradually light up. Jesus, he looked like a determined little puppy.

With a huff of laughter, he ruffled Mark's hair, "You're also being put in charge of after sex-clean up. As an apology for pimping me out to the subscribers."

The smile that donned on his boyfriend did not go amiss. It was nice to refer to Mark that way in his head again. His boyfriend. Mark was still his boyfriend. He exhaled a sigh of relief at the feel of Mark nuzzling into his neck as he raked fingers through that unruly bush of hair.

With a smile, he held on just a _little_ tighter, "I love you too, by the way."


End file.
